How He Did It
by TimeHunterof221B
Summary: A one-shot from Sherlock's POV on how he survived in Reichenbach Fall.


_***Spoiler Alert* **_

**Hi! I think I've figured out how Sherlock survived his fall in Reichenbach Fall. I wanted to share the information with you all. Moffat said that we could find all the information in that episode and I'm pretty sure I found it all. If you look closely you can find everything I mentioned in here. It's all there if you really look. So if you want it to be a surprise for you when Season 3 (Series 3, whatever) aires then I suggest you leave now and don't come back. But If you're anxious to know (like I was) read on, please! I think I gave good enough explanations but if you want me to clear something up then just leave a review. **

**OK well all I can say now is enjoy!**

"Here we are at last. You and me, Sherlock, and our problem, final problem. Stayin' alive! It's so boring, isn't it?" Moriarty clicked a button on his phone and the music went silent. "It's just… staying. All my life I've been searching for distractions. You were the best distraction and now I don't even have you, because I've beaten you. And you know what? In the end it was easy… it was easy. Now I've got to go back to playing with the ordinary people and it turns out you're ordinary, just like all of them." Moriarty rubbed his face with his hands. "Ah well. Did you almost start to wonder if I was real? Did I nearly get you?"

"Richard Brook," I said.

"Nobody seems to get the joke. But you do," Moriarty said, pacing in circles around me.

"Of course."

"Attaboy!"

"Rich Brook in German is Reichanbach, the case that made my name," I explained.

"Just trynna have some fun."

As Moriarty began to circle me for the second time, I tapped my fingers on my fist. Remembering the code that Moriarty had implanted in my brain.

He must have noticed because the next thing he said was, "Good, you got that too."

"Beats like digits. Every beat is a one, and every rest is a zero," I told him. "Binary code. That's why those assassins tried to save my life! It was hidden inside me, hidden inside my head, a few simple lines of computer code that can break into any system."

"Told all my clients," Moriarty paused, "Last one to Sherlock is a sissy."

"Yes, but now that it's up here," I said, gesturing to my head, "I can use it to alter all the records. I can kill Rich Brook and bring back Jim Moriarty," I bet Moriarty didn't see that coming. He must not have realized that I had the best memory and I wouldn't forget a single digit.

He started at me with pity in his eyes, "No, no, no, no, no, this is too easy. This is too easy. There _is_ no key, DOOFUS!" He yelled right in my face. _What? _I thought, _But it's impossible. How did he break into all the systems? _

"Those digits are meaningless. They're utterly meaningless. You really think that a couple of lines of computer code are going to crash the world around our ears? I'm disappointed. I'm disappointed in you, ordinary Sherlock," Moriarty said in a mocking tone.

"But the rythym…"

"Partita number one. Thank you Johann Sebastian Bach."

"But then how did…"

"Then how did I break into the Bank, to the Tower, to the Prison? Daylight robbery. All it takes is some willing participants. I knew you'd fall for it. That's your weakness, you always want everything to be clever. Now, shall we finish the game? One final act. Glad you chose a tall building, nice way to do it."

I knew this would come. He wants me to jump, I guessed correctly. _Play dumb. _I had to remind myself.

"Do it? Do- Do what?" I complemented myself on my acting skills. I had almost sounded afraid.

But Moriarty said nothing so I turned to him, "Yes, of course. My suicide."

"'Genius detective, proved to be a fraud.' I read it in a paper so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairytales," Moriarty said.

Curiosity was egging me to peer over the edge of the building to see if Molly had arrived. So I did it casually. I took small, quick strides to the edge of the building and looked over. The patch of ground that was marked off with chalk was where I was supposed to jump, where I was supposed to land in the laundry truck Molly had borrowed. But there was no truck there, though I could see some of Molly's doctor friends standing around. They were waiting for the truck to come, for me to jump and to keep people who weren't in on the act, out of the way. Moriarty stood beside him and glanced over. He didn't seem to notice the surplus of doctors standing in the area.

"And pretty Grimm ones too," Moriarty said as he turned to face me.

I turned towards him and said, "I can still prove that you created an entirely false identity."

"Oh just kill yourself. It's a lot less effort," Moriarty spat. I turned away from him and started to pace. _Where are you, Molly? _I thought nervously.

"Go on. For me._ Pleeeeeease!" _Moriarty said in a high-pitched squeal. It a swift move, I grabbed Moriarty by the collar of his coat, spun him around and held him over the edge of the building.

He looked at me with interest.

"You're insane," I said.

"You're just getting that now."

His words made me furious and I shoved him even further over the edge. But he looked at me fearlessly. He held his arms out wide, committing himself to my grasp.

"OK, let me give you a little extra incentive. Your friends will die if you don't."

Fear prickled inside me. If anything went wrong with our plan, if Molly didn't show up, his friends would be dead. What if Molly had a gun pressed to her head right now and that's why she hadn't shown up? An idea popped up in my mind, _what if Moriarty wants me to name them, so he'll know who the more important people are._

I didn't want to make it obvious, so reluctantly I said, "John."

"Not just John," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "Everyone."

The next name that popped up into my mind was, "Mrs. Hudson."

"Everyone," he whispered.

I tried to think of the people that had been at John's Christmas party and mine.

"Lestrade," I said.

"Three bullets; three gunmen; three victims. There's no stopping them now. Unless they see you jump," The savage I heard in his voice sent a chill down my spine. He would really do it.

I pulled him furiously back onto the roof. He stared at me, hard.

"You can have me arrested; you can torture me; you can do anything you like with me; but nothing's gunna prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only three friends will die… unless…" Moriarty waited for me to complete his sentence.

"Unless I kill myself. Complete your story…"

"You've gotta admit that's sexier," Moriarty smiled.

"…and I die in disgrace." I finished.

"Of course. That's the _point_ of this," He glanced down at the streets and people below, "Oh, you've got an audience now. Off you pop. Go on."

I slowly stepped past Moriarty and onto the ledge. My legs were shaking, Molly hadn't arrived yet and I feared that I would run out of time.

"I told you how this ends. Your death is the only thing that's gunna call off the killers. _I'm _certainly not going to do it," Moriarty said.

"Would you give me… one moment, please; one moment of privacy?" I needed to think of something quick. Molly's truck wasn't anywhere in sight and Moriarty almost had me. If I hesitated much longer, the killers would probably shoot and everything would be over.

"Please?" I repeated.

Moriarty rolled his eyes, "Of course."

Moriarty strode away from me with excitement in his steps. There was nothing that I could think of, no perfect excuse. Then my brain clicked back into gear, _I'm certainly not going to do it. _Is what Moriarty had said, they _could _be called off. I started to chuckle wildly in relief.

"What is it?" Moriarty snapped around to face me.

I turned to him and stepped off the ledge, greeting Moriarty's glare with a smile.

"What did I miss?"

I approached Moriarty, "_You're _not going to do it. So the killers _can _be called off. Then, there's a recall code or number. I don't have to die… if I've got you."

"Oh!" he laughed, "You think you can _make _me stop the order? You think _you _can make me do that?"

My brilliant idea didn't seem so brilliant anymore, but I kept up with the smile.

"Yes. So do you," I said.

"Sherlock, your big brother and all the king's horses couldn't make me do a thing I didn't want to."

"Yes, but I'm not my brother, remember? I am you, prepared to do anything; prepared to burn; prepared to do what ordinary people won't do. You want me to shake hands with you in hell? I shall not disappoint you," I want mostly improvising at that point.

"Naah. You talk big. Naah. You're ordinary. You're ordinary, you're on the side of the angels."

"Oh, I may be on the side of the angels but don't think for one second that I am one of them."

Moriarty held my gaze for a long time. He was worried now, but something seemed to light up in his eyes after a moment. As if he finally realized something.

"No you're not," he blinked. I made sure to mimic the move to add to my point.

"I see. You're not ordinary. No. You're me," Moriarty hissed out a laugh, "You're me! _Thank_ you!"

He outstretched his hand as if he were going to shake my hand. I had no idea what he was up to, but I slowly put my hand in his and we shook.

"Sherlock Holmes. Thank you. _Bless_ you," Moriarty blinked again and lowered his gaze, as if trying to hold back tears. "As long as I'm alive, you can save your friends. You've got a way out. Well good luck with that."

He looked up into my eyes again and grinned manically. He pulled me closer then opened his mouth wide. I was confused for a moment, before Moriarty pulled a pistol out of his pocket and aimed it in his mouth. I jumped back in alarm as he put the barrel in his own mouth and pulled the trigger. Moriarty dropped to the ground instantly. I stared in horror as blood poured from the wounds in his head, pooling around him and soaking his sleek, black hair. I turned away quickly.

I walked slowly over to the edge of the building and peered over. Molly's laundry truck was there. Now I only had to gain the courage to jump. I stepped onto the ledge, my knees shaking.

A black taxi pulled up across the street from the short building in front of the one I stood on. John hopped out of the taxi and started to head in the direction of my building. Another thought occurred to me. I plucked my phone out of my pocket and pressed John's speed dial button. It rang for a second before John answered.

"Hello?" John said.

"John." I said.

"Hey, Sherlock, you OK?" he asked. There was concern in his voice. I almost never called him.

"Turn around and walk back the way you came," I said, trying to get him back on the other side of the short building. John had to believe that I was dead. If he didn't, he would expect me to move back in again. Eventually the killers would find out and kill him, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade.

"No, I'm coming in," he insisted, sounding even more concerned.

"Just do as I ask. Please."

"Where?" John sighed. He walked back to where he'd gotten out of the taxi.

"Stop there!"

"Sherlock?"

"OK look up. I'm on the rooftop."

John looked up at me in horror. It hurt me to see him like that and it hurt me even more that he would have to believe what I was about to say.

"Oh God," John said.

"I… I… I can't come down, so we'll… we'll just have to do it like this," I told him, willing myself to cry.

"What's going on?"

"An apology. It's all true."

"Wh- What?"

"Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty."

"Why are you saying this?"

John's voice was filled with disbelief, it made me feel evil. I started to cry without having to act, and my words came out broken.

"I'm a fake."

"Sherlock…"

"The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade; I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson, and Molly… in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that I created Moriarty for my own purposes."

"Okay, shut up, Sherlock, shut up. The first time we met… the _first time, _you knew all about my sister, right?"

"Nobody could be that clever."

"You could."

"I researched you. Before we met I discovered everything I could to impress you," I couldn't lie to my best friend, but I had to. For his own safety. So I put a hint in my next few words.

"It's a trick. Just a magic trick," I said. John would probably assume that I was talking about what I did, not what I'm about to do. But I hoped that he would figure it out, someday.

"No. Alright, stop it now." John said as he began to walk toward the entrance.

"No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move," I said as I outstretched my arm, as if it would freeze John in his tracks.

"Alright."

"Keep your eyes fixed on me. Please, will you do this for me."

"Do what?"

"This phone call, it's, er… it's my note. It's what people do, don't they leave a note?"

"Leave a note when?"

"Goodbye, John."

"No. Don't."

I tossed my phone to the ground beside Moriarty. I concentrated on Molly's laundry truck and fell. The wind rushed through my hair as I fell, and it was calming. I momentarily forgot about my situation. But it was too short. I landed on my stomach on top of bags of laundry in Molly's borrowed laundry truck.

I watched as her and one of her doctor friends dragged my fake corpse out in the middle of the street and poured the fake blood on the pavement. Molly rushed back to the truck, started the ignition and drove away. As we left, I saw John, rushing towards fake me, and the doctors pushing him away as planned.

_This is it. _I thought. _This is what all the planning was for._ I had no idea that it would hurt so bad. I had gone to Molly, telling her that I thought that Moriarty was going to try to kill me. She made me a fake death certificate and we'd spent hours planning for those past few moments. Molly had gotten the doctors she trusted most to help her with this, she'd even gotten one of them to hit John with a bike, just to slow him down.

As John, and my old life, grew further and further away, I waved. I said, "Goodbye, John; Goodbye, Mrs. Hudson; Goodbye Lestrade." And I watched as life as I knew it faded into the horizon.


End file.
